


No More On Life’s Parade Shall Meet That Brave and Fallen Few

by VampirePaladin



Category: Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Multi, Post-Canon, Some Characters Live, Threesome - F/M/M, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16566374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/pseuds/VampirePaladin
Summary: Ryan, Jane, and Neil on the day of Gray's funeral.





	No More On Life’s Parade Shall Meet That Brave and Fallen Few

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireEye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/gifts).



> The title comes from the poem _Bivouc of the Dead_. The first verse is as follows:
> 
> The muffled drum’s sad roll has beat the soldiers last tattoo.  
> No more on life’s parade shall meet that brave and fallen few.  
> On fames eternal camping ground their silent tents are spread,  
> and glory guards with solemn round the bivouc of the dead.

“The dress uniform they sent doesn’t fit right,” Neil complained as he fastened the buttons that fit just a little more tightly than he was used to.

“That’s because you haven’t been keeping up on PT,” Ryan said as he adjusted the tie on his own uniform. His service ribbons and a brand-new medal, only recently awarded by the council, rested upon his breast. He was already fully dressed and ready to go. Ryan stepped closer to Neil and began to help him with the buttons and fit of his dress uniform.

“What’s taking the two of you so long?” Jane asked as she stepped into the room. She was wearing her dress uniform, her hair up just as practically as she had always worn it. The only differences between her dress uniform and those of the men was that her dress shoes had a very sleight heel to them. Other than that, the only differences were related to rank and their service ribbons.

“The new uniform they sent me doesn’t fit, like at all,” Neil repeated for Jane. 

None of them had the dress uniforms that had been issued to them so long ago. They were still back in the ruins of New York. The Phantoms were gone now, but that didn’t mean it was safe to go back to retrieve personal belongings. There were a lot of bodies that were laying around there and that meant one big biohazard. Specialized teams were cleaning up the city. They weren’t going to go out of their way to retrieve a few uniforms, not even for three of the heroes that had helped to save the planet.

“You look the same as you always do,” Jane said, “like you’ve been skipping PT.”

“I haven’t been skipping PT. Alright, I might have been slacking a little bit. But what’s the point anyways? The Phantoms are gone. The Captain,” Neil paused. A look passed between the three of them. They didn’t need to say anything. Neil turned away first, a tear welling up in the corner of his eye.

“You look fine, Neil,” Ryan said as he put a heavy hand on Neil’s shoulder. The teasing was gone from his voice.

After a few more minutes to get ready the three left their current accommodations together. A sleek dark transport was waiting for them. A soldier was in the driver’s seat as another, a private, opened the door for the three of them. There was silence as they got in and the vehicle started to move.

Each of them had the same thoughts. They wondered that if they had died, could they have saved Captain Edwards. Any member of Deep Eyes would have gladly given their life for any other member, for any of the souls that they were charged with defending. Those thoughts were useless but they still circled through their heads.

They left the city and continued into the countryside. It felt uncomfortable being out in the open so casually with no way to detect or fight Phantoms. Each soldier in the transport had a tenseness to their shoulders, but they encountered nothing more dangerous than other vehicles.

It was only when they reached Arlington National Cemetery that the transport stopped. There were other transports already there. Cemeteries had been abandoned when humanity had fled into the safety of the cities, even this distinguished one. But when the Phantoms had been purged from the Earth and the story of Dr. Ross, Dr. Sid, and the Deep Eyes became known the cemetery was cleaned up for its newest occupant, the first that it had received in decades.

Getting out of another transport was Dr. Ross herself, her dress was black, and a veil obscured her features. She hadn’t spoken much since coming out of the crater with Gray’s body cradled in her arms. 

It wasn’t long before they were joined by three more soldiers, also in dress uniforms. More and more people came. There were news crews, representatives of the council, dignitaries of the different governments from the countries that still existed, and a growing crowd of civilians all were there.

The last to arrive was the hearse, carrying the coffin of Captain Gray Edwards. Sergeant Ryan Whittaker and Corporal Jane Proudfoot took the front, one on either side. Corporal Neil Fleming was in the middle, right behind Jane. Three other soldiers, friends of Gray’s from different points in his military career, took up the remaining positions.

Together they carried him to his final resting place. His spirit had already returned to Gaia, and now it was time for his body to return to the Earth.

 

* * *

There was laughter.

“And then he said, ‘Do you want that to go?’” Jane said as she recounted a story about the time that the four of them had gone out drink and Gray knocked a plate of beer battered wings on a general. Her jacket was unbuttoned revealing the undershirt. A beer was in her hands as she lounged in the chair. 

The service had been beautiful and moving. They had each done their final duty to their captain. Now, the three of them were alone, sitting around a table, with beers in their hands.

“He was always trying to get me to go to officer’s school,” Ryan said.

“I think you’d make a great officer,” Neil said a little too quickly.

“You’d make a better officer than Neil,” Jane said poking at Neil halfheartedly. The bickering between the two of them had less enthusiasm since the escape from New York.

“If the two of you don’t start picking at each other again I might have to pick up the slack. You’re getting along way too well for my liking.”

“Is that an order?” Jane asked.

“It is,” Ryan said before taking another swig of his beer.

“Aye, aye,” Neil said as he gave a mock salute with his left hand.

“You’re drunk, Neil. That was the wrong hand,” Jane said.

“I did it wrong on purpose so that you’d have something to comment on and we could fulfill the orders of our illustrious sergeant.” The excuse sounded week to both Jane and Ryan.

As the two half drunken corporals began to bicker with the most energy they’d had in days, Ryan moved his chair in closer and set his bottle of beer down on the table. He reached out and put an arm around each of their shoulders. Jane and Neil’s bickering slowed down until they went silent. One of Jane’s arms reached around Ryan’s waist. Neil’s arm went over it. Then Jane set down her own beer and reached out a hand across to Neil, who took it in his own. The three sat like that, silent and together.


End file.
